Across the Winds of Time (6 page)

“Listen, buddy, I’m just barely hanging on here. I don’t really think I believe this...ghost thing you’re trying to hand me, Darius, so please don’t push it. You can’t
stay
with me. How would that work? I can’t
stay
here at the cemetery. Don’t tell me you’re going to follow me back to the hotel...back home, that is?” I stilled for a moment and buried my face in my hands. A high-pitched laugh forced its way from my constricted throat.

“Oh, my sister would love that. Someone following me home from a cemetery. Sara is going to love that!”

I watched him open his mouth and close it again. Hah! Well, that had certainly silenced him, hadn’t it? So, why did I want to throw myself in his arms and cry? I hugged myself even tighter and stared at him through narrowed eyes. He sagged and dropped his elbows to his knees as he lowered his head to run unsteady hands through his thick sandy brown hair. He looked defeated, and I hated that I had taken the sparkle from his eyes. But I had to know more.

“So? What do you do when you’re not...? Well, you know...hanging around in cemeteries?”

He rose quickly, and I jumped back.

He stiffened.

“Do not worry. For pity’s sake, Molly, I am not going to attack you.” He locked his hands behind his back and began his own pacing, long legs striding across the grass in front of the bench. I watched and held my breath.

“I do not know what is happening,” Darius began. “I do not know why I am here. The last thing I remember is coming up here to visit your—” He stopped abruptly and stared at me. “I do not know how I came to be here,” he said with a frown. “Nor do I understand why you seem to have no memory of me.”

I stomped my foot again in frustration.

“Because I’ve never met you before, that’s why!”

He shook his head as if to repudiate my words.

“If that is true, my dear, then, how did you know my name? Why did you return my kiss as you did? Surely, you do not suffer the embraces of strangers easily, do you? You remembered me, Molly! You remembered me.” He jabbed a thumb toward his chest.

My mouth dropped at his vehemence. Aware I was holding my breath again, I exhaled, and my rubbery legs gave out on me. I moved over to sink down onto the bench. Darius’s expression softened as he watched me. He lowered himself to the bench once again, taking the far opposite end, and folded his arms across his chest as he thrust his legs out in front with crossed ankles. Even in the midst of this chaos, I couldn’t help but admire the muscular tone of the impossibly long legs visible through the wool of his dark trousers.

I dragged my gaze to his face and tried to choose my words with care. I couldn’t bear to hurt his feelings, but it seemed I was capable of doing nothing else at the moment.

“I don’t know what that was about, I’m afraid, Darius. I felt like I knew you at that moment. That’s all I can say. I dreamt...” I bit my tongue. No, I would not tell him about my dream. We would end up with adjoining cells at the institution.

I shrugged. “I have no other explanation. But I don’t remember anything about you. How could I? I’ve never met you before.” I raised my hands in a helpless gesture.

“You have the same mannerisms, you know.” He smiled tenderly. His voice held that affectionate note that sent my heart racing.

“What?”

“Your hands. You used to do that often...raise your hands just so.” He nodded toward my upturned hands.

I dropped my hands and locked my fingers in my lap.

The sound of wheels on gravel caught my attention, and I turned toward the entrance. A large black sedan pulled past the cemetery arch and came to rest behind my car.

“Someone comes,” he murmured with the voice of one doomed. “The arrival of this large black conveyance does not bode well for me, I think.”

I caught my breath. Someone was here! A real live person was here! Sanity! Reality! Panic, never far away over the last hour, seemed to set in, and I didn’t know if I wanted to run to the new arrival or stay with the mesmerizing and enigmatic stranger beside me.

“I have to go, Darius. I-I think I have to go. Can they see you?” That I had to ask that question told me I had fallen under his paranormal spell.

Darius shrugged helplessly. “I do not know.” He gave me an unexpectedly playful look and grinned. “Shall we find out?” He made as if to rise.

“Don’t you dare!” I grabbed his arm and held him down. He looked down at my hand and covered it with his own. His hand felt warm, strong, sturdy, alive...Hardly ghostly material. There had to be another explanation for these strange events.

“No? Admit it, my girl. You want to know if they can see me as well, don’t you? You want to know if I am really a ghost.”

I pulled my hand out from under his and shook my head, wondering if allowing myself that hysterical shriek of laughter might just make me feel better. I opted to choke down any such silliness and turned to stare at the car.

“They’re blocking my car. I can’t get out anyway.”

“Your car? Is that what you call it?” Darius tilted his head as he looked toward the parked vehicles. “I think there have been many new inventions.”

“Well, why don’t they get out of the car? What are they waiting for?” Even as I fussed, two silver-haired women slowly worked their way out of the large black vehicle. One maneuvered a walker on which she leaned heavily. The other ambled around the car to offer her a solicitous arm.

“What is this object she leans against?” Darius pointed to the women.

“It’s called a walker.” I sighed, feeling a bit guilty for my impatience with the women. “That explains why they had such a hard time getting out of the car.”

“And why does she use it? Is it some sort of enlarged cane?”

“I think she has probably had hip surgery and needs it for balance. My grandmother used one after her hip replacement.”

“Replacing hips,” Darius repeated in a thoughtful tone. He watched the women with interest, though they were some yards off in the distance.

“Have you seen them here before?” I asked.

Darius swung his head to look at me.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked with a frown.

I reared back as if stung. “I-I was just asking if you’d seen them here in the cemetery before. It’s not a big deal.”

“Woman! Do you think I have been lurking about in this cemetery for over a hundred years...prancing about on the stones and scaring the townspeople...on the hope that someday you would come?” He jumped up and turned away from me, settling one rigid hand on his hip and running the other impatiently across his jaw.

I watched him in stunned silence for a second before I stood briskly.

“Well, I was
just
asking. No need to get in a huff, Mister... What
is
your last name anyway?”

“Ferguson. Darius Ferguson.” He turned back to face me, the anger leaving his face.

A horrible thought struck me. What if...what if my dream had all the right characters, but the roles were reversed. What if...he hadn’t been visiting my tombstone? What if I was the one visiting his? I couldn’t make the name out, but what if it was Darius’s tombstone?

“Is...is that your stone?” I blurted out.

“Where? What stone?” His eyes narrowed, and he turned in the direction I pointed. The tombstone I’d touched earlier basked lazily under the sun’s warmth.

“I couldn’t make out the name. I tried, but the lettering is worn away,” I mumbled. Horror didn’t describe my feelings at the moment. It seemed more like...pain. Pain for his possible death. I wrapped my arms around my chest to distract myself from the ache inside. He stood before me, so tall, so handsome, so...vibrant. This couldn’t be happening, I thought with dread.

“How old are you?” I remembered the age on the tombstone.

He turned from contemplation of the stone and faced me, the muscles in his jaw working.

“If I tell you that I am twenty-eight, will you run screaming from me?”

I shuddered, though the August wind was warm. And I stood my ground, not because I wasn’t tempted to run screaming to my car, but because his troubled blue eyes begged me to stay.

“The age on the stone is twenty-eight. Whoever is buried there died when they were twenty-eight.” My voice shook, and I avoided looking into the eyes which pulled at my heart.

“Of course,” he muttered. “Of course, the age is the same. I do not suppose there is a year of death on the stone...anything that could salvage this day.”

I shook my head. “No, most of it is worn off. Come see for yourself.” I took a step forward, but his words stopped me.

“I think not,” he sighed. “I would have you believe that I am here—in this time—in some capacity other than as a dead man.”

I shivered again. I looked up at him from under my lashes to see dejection and confusion on his face. Once again, I’d taken the twinkle from his beautiful blue eyes.

“You know? Maybe that’s not your tombstone anyway. Maybe, you did...um...,” I searched for the right words in such an indescribable situation, “...come here some other way. Maybe, you’re not really from the late 1800s.” I warmed to my rationalizations. “What if you... um... were... oh, say... an actor, and you got in some sort of accident and had amnesia?”

The look he gave me wasn’t exactly withering, but it could have been without the softening effect of his twitching lips. His thick mustache covered most of his upper lip, and I couldn’t tell if he was laughing or not.

“Just so,” he murmured. “Amnesia...Yes, of course. Except that I have very strong memories of you...of us.”

“Oh, yes, there’s that,” I mumbled. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the ladies standing near some stones on the other side of the cemetery. The sight of them tugged at the last vestiges of rational thought in my brain.

I turned back to Darius.

“I think I should go,” I mumbled. I didn’t want to leave him, but I didn’t think I could stay either. Nothing made sense, and I needed to clear my head. I simply could not think rationally in his intoxicating presence.

Darius took a step forward, and I retreated.

“Please do not leave, Molly. Will I see you again? Will you come back?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. We have to move on. My sister...”

I looked up into his face, and realized I made a mistake. His eyes, full of a love I had never known, pleaded with me.

I tore my gaze from his and shook my head.

“I have to go now. I can’t stay here.”

Darius grabbed my arm, albeit gently. I looked down at his hand but did not pull away. How do you tear yourself away from someone you desperately want to be with? I looked up at him, knowing that I needed to get away from him...for my own sanity.

“Molly! I cannot lose you again. Please do not go. Stay with me. How will I find you again?” He searched my face for a moment, then shook his head and gave a short mirthless laugh. “No, that is unfair to you. Forgive me, my love. Of course, you must do as you wish. Will you come back? Will I see you again?” With his free hand, he brushed hair tenderly back from my face.

“I don’t know,” I answered in a small voice. “None of this makes any sense to me. I have to get out of here and think straight.” I shook my head again, my entire body quivering with tension as I tried to break free... emotionally. I jerked my arm, and he let me go. He locked his hands behind his back in that endearingly vulnerable pose of his.

“I understand,” Darius murmured. His suddenly controlled face gave no hint of his thoughts. He seemed distant—the stranger that he was.

“Well, I don’t! This is bizarre. I resisted the urge to stomp my foot again...or dive back into the surreal loving embrace of his strong arms.

“Goodbye,” I whispered as tears welled in my eyes. I turned and hurried away toward the car, wondering why on earth I felt like I was running headlong into a vast emptiness rather than escaping from a lunatic.

“Molly,” his voice whispered behind me. It cost me every ounce of strength I had to keep going.

The tears burst forth as I hurried away from the stranger named Darius. It was as if I couldn’t get away from the insanity of the situation fast enough...and yet, I couldn’t seem to bear the thought of walking away from him. The logical part of my brain told me he was a disturbed man who wandered cemeteries in search of lonely women. The emotional part of my brain-some sort of primal instinct—told me that somehow I had loved him all my life...and before. It had to be the dream! The dream I’d had the night before...of the handsome man kneeling by my grave. Had I seen him the day before and not realized it? It had to be the dream.

With shaking hands, I wiped at my wet face and stumbled on the path. I threw a frenzied glance over my shoulder, terrified that he might be following, but he was nowhere in sight. Where did he go?

I hurried on toward the car. When I reached it, I saw with despair that I really wasn’t going to be able to get out, as the large black town car blocked my retreat. There seemed to be no way to drive forward or turn around. I could see the ladies further out among the tombstones, but I didn’t think I had the strength to drag myself over and ask them to move their car. I turned to search the cemetery again with blurry eyes, but Darius seemed well and truly gone. What if I never saw him again? What if he’d just been a figment of my lonely imagination?

And why, oh why, did these ladies have to block my car? I needed to get out of there!

A sob of frustration forced its way out, and despite my best efforts at self-control, I began to shake and sob. I wrenched the car door open and threw myself into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind me. I fumbled with the lock as a wave of grief I could not understand shook me. I wrapped my arms around the steering wheel, dropped my head on my arms and bawled my eyes out for what seemed like hours.

A gentle tapping on the driver’s side window broke through my wails, and I froze at the sound. Oh, please, no, not Darius! The man had to leave me alone. I really couldn’t take any more. I held my breath and peeked over one arm toward the driver’s side window. A white face surrounded by black filled my window. I shrieked and buried my face in my arms again.